


I don't know anyone i am

by translayton



Category: Blueycapsules
Genre: Angst, Hurt, Other, Pain, Personality Issues, Pretentious, is this a vent? youll never know, something cool and poetic, wow he kins rei from evangelion guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29121429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/translayton/pseuds/translayton
Summary: Michael reflects on his life.
Relationships: None
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	I don't know anyone i am

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning for brief themes of deraility towards the end.
> 
> i dont know why i wrote this. Its horribly paced and sounds pretentious as fuck.

I stared prolongly at the reflection in the mirror. It seemed everytime i tried to avoid this scenario it happened quicker then the last time. Each day it was worse to. I was filling into my appearance as a fine young man, aka a fine impression of my father. Everything about me mirrored him, from my eyes, hair, face shape, and mouth. And i hated it.   
I ran my hand down my cheek softly, leaning into it sadly. I looked away from the mirror. I could feel the familiar knot twisting in my stomach now, that unavoidable sick feeling i would get when i thought about things for too long. I trudged back to my room and placed myself down on the mattress, following the same schedule i do everyday. After that, i found a spot on the wall i liked and stared at it, letting my thoughts take over my brain and forcing myself into a sort of autopilot where the time flies by fast.  
I had been compared to my father all my life. I had been compared to the people around me as well, too. “You look so much like your father!” seemed to be the most common and popular one, but there were many other variants that people would use.. Obviously. When i was younger i wouldnt mind this, my earliest memories to when i was about 13.. But i don’t like it anymore. Whenever someone says it to me, or even hints at us being remotely similar, i get those knots in my stomach. I get sick, dizzy. Whenever i think about father my reaction would usually be to leave. Run to a different room and lock myself there. Being compared to him - and even worse, those comparisons being true - it was like this inescapable thing that i still try and run from, but you cant run from your own body. Fathers a monster. If im like him, then by default, im a monster too. Maybe its my fault that hes like that in the first place, honestly. I only started to notice his change in behavior after everything happened.. No. He was to comfortable with it, he had been in that mindset for awhile.. There was no trauma response that included being proud of the cause, after all.. 

I lookd at the clock. It was about 10pm. Father would be home soon. Hopefully Liz was in bed, and ok. What was i on about..? I don’t like feeling this way. I wish i could take everything back, but that's impossible. Its impossible to redeem the unredeemable, impossible to turn back time. I guess because of this i try not to dwell on the past at all, but little things still make me do it. Our house is kind of cluttered. Ill find something in my closet from when we were all younger, and then a wave of memories comes back to me.

Me and C.C running in the backyard, my demented laugh flowing up into the sky as he cries while running from my water gun that i have clutched tightly in my fingers. The sun is setting, its warm and i know that the night will be crisp. I’ll go to bed, satisfied that my younger brother is reminded that.. That.. i don't know what i was reminding him of. But i know that soon enough father will be impressed with my work.

And of course after that it leads to us working in fredbears again. Scrubbing mud off the floor while me and liz send each other death glares from opposing sides of the dining floor. C.C isnt working as much, why is that? I reprimand him, like any good older brother would do to discipline someone miss behaving.

More of these memories continue. Theyre all in the same vain. No matter how long ago or how recent, theyre all the same. I never improve, i never learn. Im just like him. Stubborn and loud, so trapped in my own world i don't even realize how toxic i am to the one that matters outside of it. Everyone hates me more, even my own family. They both flinch when i walk into a room. I used to carry that with pride, but now it just makes me want to discipline myself.

And after im forced to relive all those memories, its the one that's always at the end. The music. The laughter. The cries. The lack of supervision. Hoisting him up. Pushing closer. Glassy animatronic eyes staring down from the stage. More laughter. Cries turning into yells. 

And then it stops. A momentary quietness after the bite, a split second for people to realize what had happened, and then the rest. It was all so loud and overwhelming. The moment it happened was so clear that all the aftermath blurred together like a smudged pencil drawing. 

And then im brought back, more sad then i was before. 

Why was i forced to remember that stuff? Remembering it didnt feel very conventional either. It was like i was a ghost, watching myself in third person. The boy in those memories didnt feel like me. It didnt feel like anyone i knew.   
And that leads to the question... Who am i?  
Am i my father, the person i am now, or that little boy i have to watch in those memories? I don’t feel like any of those. I don’t feel like anything at all. I try to perceive myself and i fail, im just presented with a blank slate, something that you want to throw out and try again on a better sheet. It doesn’t feel like i matter, it just feels like im some enigma that exists outside of everything else drifting along until i die.

I look at the clock again. Its twelve. I know that im tired, my eyes are heavy and threatening to close. But i don’t want to sleep. Maybe ill just sit here for a bit longer. And wait. And think.   
Yeah. that sounds good.


End file.
